


Valoran High

by newmoonsoul (colorfulAuthor)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: All the bad things happen later on, But they do happen, I took some creative liberties, Just with the names though, Multi, Set in highschool, So Highschool AU, Tons more characters to come, Warnings now and then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulAuthor/pseuds/newmoonsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valoran High: an average high school, for the most part. The sparring and Wall of Champions were a bit out of the norm. Not to mention how everything is turned upside down when three new students from France show up. Maybe it's bad timing, or they bring misfortune with them. Maybe it's just life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Valoran High

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own League of Legends or its characters. That's all Riot. I'm just using them to channel my inspirations. WARNING: In later chapter(s) there will be uncomfortable topics. I will be making that known in the chapter prior to the chapter(s). There will still be a warning on the chapter(s) with the content.

Valoran High. A normal high school from the outside, but inside it was a plethora of things. A cage, a playing ground, a training center, a brawling ring. The students there were just as diverse. The school’s Jr. Sheriff, the untouchable playboy, the unlikely couple, the frenemy co-captains; the freaks and geeks of all social statuses seemed to understand the place of their classmates, but that didn’t restrict them. Not with the system that Valoran High had placed long ago.

Any self respecting school prided itself on no fighting, only very few ever managed to hold any sort of claim to that. Valoran had no fights; they had matches.

These little sparring matches were a way to physically resolve a problem under the guidance of a teacher who will intervene if things become too much for one of the participants. Matches consist of two equal parties containing one to five members. From there, the match would be overseen by a coach until one party was deemed defeated. The victors would have their picture taken after the battle to be hung in the Hall of Champions. This led to the mingling of the different student social classes, and soon the kids just stopped caring. The labels were still there, but they held no harsh meanings.

* * *

 Darius wasn’t one to skip classes. He liked being co-captain of the basketball team, though he would have preferred if Crownguard stepped down. The kid was good, but he treated everyone on the team as a friend. He couldn’t tell any of them if they did a bad job and had to pull up the slack, it just wasn’t in the golden boy. Darius didn’t think the team needed that kind of guy in charge; they wouldn’t get better if there was someone there to continue to hold their hands. The thought made him sneer, making his bad mood even more palpable.

He walked to the Hall of Champions. It was something unique to Valoran High. It also helped your credit around here.

Those who weren’t on the wall were usually no-names. Even that Jr. Sheriff girl was on the wall a few times. But the more pictures you had over your “rivals”, the more respect there was around the campus for you. And Darius had a heavy contribution to the portraits. The young man was known for a quote he made to the school newspaper: “Actions _are_ louder than words.”

His actions today were not ordinary, but more than justified in his mind. Darius had slugged his co-captain out of nowhere because of a comment that Crownguard made about his brother. Siblings were a tough subject between the two of them, even more so for Darius today. So, he felt like pretty-boy needed a sharp punch. Then he walked off because school only had this period left and he didn’t want to deal with anyone in the gym. He really didn’t want to deal with anyone at all.

* * *

 “You just need to sign this last thing and your kids are all set up,” the secretary said as she slid the papers towards Marcus. She sounded like she wanted to be here just as much as the teenagers did. Well, at least the older two. Talon and Katarina were more than okay with hopping on the next flight back to France. Marseille was home. This new land was not. There was no beauty in the architecture and no sea for miles. It made Katarina scowl. Talon almost always wore no expression.

Cassiopeia was very different. She was excited to be here, her tight curls bouncing along with her. Always the adventurer, even with her severe eczema. She expressed many times that she couldn’t wait to start up her new school. Her father nodded mindlessly as he finished the forms. So much paperwork to do, but he couldn’t leave the three of them alone for the year. He would lose at least one child, surely. That would be another nightmare to deal with. Once Marcus was finished, he handed back the papers. The secretary was appeased. “That’s it then. See you all bright and early on Monday.”

* * *

 The clean swish of the net and the hard smack of a basketball on asphalt. It was the biggest indicator that Garen and Jarvan were home. But it was more for the two of them. They were brothers, even without shared blood. They were always together, and usually playing basketball. It heightened their connection. Even though they needn't be playing to tell when something was wrong, it definitely helped as a dead giveaway. Jarvan grabbed the ball off the rebound and refused to pass.

“Hey man,” Garen clapped, wanting the ball, “what’s the hold up?”

“You are,” was his best friend’s response.

Garen sighed. There wasn’t much he could hide from Jarvan. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nothing important, then.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Another sigh. He’d rather not; it would save his pride. But this was Jarvan we’re talking about! His best friend since forever! He couldn’t hide this from him. “To be honest, I’m kind of jealous of you.” Jarvan stayed silent, waiting for Garen to continue. “Of you and Shyvana. You’ve been in love with her since the _sixth_ grade. You two have been dating since freshman year. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you both. But, I want that. We’re fucking seniors, shouldn’t we be cutting it up with the team, and spending the weekends on dates with a beautiful girl? I don’t want to be like the other guys, who use a girl for her body and then just dump her. I want the love that you have with Vana.”

Jarvan took a moment to let that soak in before nodding. “It’ll come to you, brother. Just, let it come to you. Love happens, sometimes in ways we’d rather not deal with. You’ll find that girl.” And with that, Jarvan passed back Garen’s ball before going to his house. The basketball captain looked at the sphere in his hands. All his desire to play went out of him the moment Jarvan made him open up about his feelings.

The teenager pulled the hoop off the street, resting in its place between the Light’s and Crownguard’s residences. Ball under arm, Garen returned to his home feeling just a bit better.  


	2. Clubs and Cuties

The first day of school is usually the worst. That was amplified if you show up about two months into the school year. Everyone is already set in their classes, in their clubs, in their cliques. It’s nerve racking to not have a place. Well, for most people it is. But one du Couteau offspring was not like most people. Cassiopeia, even without a place in the school’s society, was bubbling. She was the social butterfly of the three of them, even in France; Talon and Katarina had prefered to stick with each other long before moving to the U.S. “Their world is their problem,” Cassie thought as they all three went to guidance counselor.

Dr. A. Atrox was and intimidating man. He was all dark and lean muscles wrapped in work attire. Cassie and Katarina had to acknowledge that dark attraction that surrounded him. “Dr. Atrox,” Talon supplied for his sisters, “we need our schedules.”

Dr. Atrox scowled, and Talon returned it. He waved them back into his office and searched for the papers. When he found them, he handed them to Talon to sort out. “Now, to deal with your club membership.”

“What do you mean?” Talon asked.

“Club activity is required for graduation. As as seniors, you need to be signed up for at least one club today. The sophomore can choose relatively soon.” The doctor sounded bored. It was obvious that he didn’t plan to spend his life signing teenagers up to be part of school clubs.

“What clubs are there?” Cassiopeia said as she found her voice.

“Take a look,” said the older man, sliding over a paper of sports and clubs.

“Sports count as a club?”

“Clubs are used as a ‘team-building exercise’. Sports count.”

Talon grabbed the paper and skimmed over it. He didn’t want to partake in any of them, but at least he could decide in a minute or so. Cassiopeia would take forever. “Chess,” he said, and Dr. Atrox put him in the roster on the club and let him know the meeting time. Katarina looked over as well. She would be quicker than Cassie.

“Uh, I can join foot-ball?” Wow, her accent was strong. The counselor gave her a strange look. She looked to Talon. “Je veux jouer au foot.”

“She wants to play soccer. You know, actual football.” Surprisingly it was Cassiopeia who offered the clarification. The sisters weren’t as close as they were from the stories pre-Talon. Katarina looked to Cassie who only looked at Dr. Atrox. “And I’ll take a few days to think this over.”

“Alright,” the older man spoke as he went through the same steps for Katarina. Then he wrote them passes and sent them on their way, glad to have an empty office.

* * *

 Cassie was not in the best mood following her trip to guidance. Her grip on the pamphlet tightened, crinkling the paper. It was stupid, these feelings. Those two had always excluded her, even since Katarina’s change. Well, she wasn’t the only one to play cold.

Cassiopeia angrily shoved the activities paper into her purse and pulled out her lotion, slathering it viciously over her skin. She dared not to look at it. She hated that she was like this. She hated that her sister and brother excluded her. She hated her mother that fled after she was born.

“Mother…” the girl whispered as the tears from her rage rolled down her cheeks. She rubbed at her eyes, carefully as to not irritate her delicate skin. This was no way to spend a first day of school. At least she didn’t have a class with her siblings, thanks to her being the youngest. But now, she didn’t feel like being around anyone. Her bubbles had all popped. She could practically hear them. As the sounds became louder, Cassiopeia realized them to be the clicking of heels. A teacher, no doubt. She’d be written up if she was caught skipping. Not to mention it was her first day.

Without looking around, she entered the closest open room without a class. She waited by the door, almost paranoid of being caught. When she was out of danger, she released a breath and examined the room she was in.

It was dark, but she could see that it was a science lab. There was all sorts of things that never really interested her laying about in a way that prevented hazards. There was a quiet warning in her head that this should be in use, but she ignored it. Upon closer inspection, it seemed if the equipment was slightly outdated compared to the rest of what she had seen at the academy. Though, her heart stopped when the lights came on.

Turning slightly, she saw a boy with a white mohawk, a nice contrast to his warm cocoa skin. Her mind instantly associated him with a comforting cup of hot chocolate. He didn’t appear to notice her, as his headphones blasted dubstep-esque music that even she could hear in clarity. Once he was done securing the door, he looked in her direction and froze, though it was only a second before he smiled.

“Heh, sorry,” he said just slightly above indoor levels, “didn’t notice ya’ there!” His eyes crinkled with his smile as he removed his headphones. “I’m Ekko.”

“I’m Cassiopeia.” The girl saw no reason to withhold her name. Besides, it seemed as if she were the one invading his area.

“Wow, that’s a mouthful,” he said with a light voice. “Usually no one comes here, so I practice my independent studies.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want to return my class, and I was scared of getting caught. I can leave so I don’t disturb you.”

“You don’t have to. Besides, as the resident title-holder for most skipped classes, I won’t rat on you.”

Her eyes widened a bit. “It’s only been two months, right? How often do you skip?”

Ekko smirked as he collected some of the equipment he would need. “I would tell you, but I’d have to kill you.” Cassie had to give a small chuckle. She couldn’t go back to class now, Ekko was actually making her feel better than she had felt in years.

* * *

 Katarina hated her French class. She knew the language inside and out, but she didn’t want to be stuck in a Spanish class. So, here she was, sitting next to a slab of a man, who was supposedly another senior.

His voice was gruff whenever he spoke, and it gave off the impression that he was always angry. (Unlike her, who was actually filled with such wrath.) But, the way he spoke her language was better than any other student she had heard. Katarina found herself watching him to save herself from the boredom. He would meet her gaze from time-to-time, and harden his eyes. She returned the cold treatment. It was her natural action. Push everyone away. This guy was no match.

It wasn’t long after that the bell rang. She was looking down when the male from the next seat over stopped in his desk. “Parlez-vous bien l’anglais?” It was gruff and demanding, much like how he spoke in class. Katarina didn’t answer and tried to get through him. He didn’t budge. “Permettez-moi de vous tuteur.”

The red-head lifted a hard gaze to him, a single jade colored iris peering into him. “Pourquoi? Je ne vous connais même pas.”

He smirked. “You will. Welcome to the town.” After that, he left. She went on as well, unknowing of the cryptic message.

* * *

 It was nothing out of the ordinary for last minute things to appear in Talon’s life. It had been that way since he ran away at 9 years old. So when he saw that the chess club was meeting today, he called up Marcus and explained to him the situation. It was alright with the general, so it was full steam ahead.

He definitely didn’t fit the image of most of the people there. That was all fine by him, he just needed to be there so he could graduate.

He smirked after the meeting. Marcus noticed it right away. “Tu regardes heureux. Quelque chose de bon arrive à la réunion?”

Talon shrugged, not yet adopting his poker face. “Je bats le leader du club dans le premier match.”

Marcus clapped his hand on Talon’s shoulder. “Je suis fier de toi, fils.”


	3. Feel the Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated the entire story, so don't forget to check out those first chapters again! Thank you for your continued reading.

“Ce bâtard!” The elder daughter screamed in the garage-turned-training room. Her knife had stuck into the target- a bull’s eye. Her encounter that first day was painfully obvious now. It was a beautiful Saturday that was going to be enjoyed. And it was, until that afternoon. Everyone on Noxus Avenue knew that the du Couteau family was new to town. But she never expected a house warming by complete strangers.

She had gotten up early to speak with her best friend. Riven was really the only person outside of family that Katarina could trust. Not even an ocean would stop their relationship. The young redhead had almost forgotten the ominous predictive words of her large classmate. The only reason she brought it up was to laugh over it with the other French youth. Their time came to an end, though, when there was a rapping on their front door.

“Katarina! Ouvrisses le porte!” was the call from her father.

“Oui, Papa,” was her obedient response. She opened the door, and to the best of her limited ability, asked the people on her doorstep, “Hello, may we help you?”

The family of four in front of her was composed of a broadly smiling woman, the mother, and a more subtle grin on a similar figured male, the father. The other members were two boys, younger than the couple. These were their children. The one in front was about the same size as the father and starting to grow his own facial hair. He seemed bored. The remaining one was larger than the others and wore a smirk as soon as her eyes met him. It was the boy from her French class. Katarina was more than considering to close the door when the woman spoke.

“Hi there! May we come in? We’ve brought over some passion fruit cheesecake as a welcoming gift...” her voice trailed off as Katarina moved her eyes between her and her larger son. She welcomed them in before going off to find her father.

“Nous avons des invités.”

* * *

 Darius smirked. This afternoon was the spectacle he expected it to be. Katarina’s face was priceless. He was caught up in the reminiscence when their was an obnoxious “oi” to interrupt him.

It was his brother. Almost a year apart, the two were still in the same grade. All because Darius was held out to start school. His parents were too protective over the two of them. “What is it, Draven?” his annoyance quite palpable through the question.

“That Katarina chick, yeah? She’s gotta nice bod’. Nothing compared to my Sona, but still easy on the eyes. You should get on that before some other chump does.”

Darius rolled his eyes. It was the normal Draven word-regurgitation. “Your idiocy is showing again.”

Draven just shrugged it off. “I’m just sayin’, bro. She’s a foreign hottie. I mean, all my friends are dogging over her as it is. There’s gonna be a dude who catches her attention and, bam, you missed out the best bang of the year.” It wasn’t two seconds before Draven felt a large fist in his face.

Darius knew very well that Katarina was fine. He had been looking more towards her since he caught her staring at him. But to think his brother was only worried about how good of a lay she was, he didn’t know what came over him. He wasn’t usually the valiant knight, that was the softy Crownguard’s role. No, he was the bad boy that tempted girls to be a bit wild.

Katarina would hardly need that, though. She had as loud a bark and as hard a bite to compete with him. That thought caused his smirk to return.

* * *

 Garen sighed as he left his history class. He hated having Professor Zilean’s class before gym; it sapped all his energy when he needed it most. Especially now. Coach had let him in on what was the newest “project” in class. Fitness plans with a partner. He groaned, only imagining he’d be paired with someone who wouldn’t be able to match with him.

On his way to the gymnasium, he stopped off in the guys’ locker room. Garen learned to change before class started. It was a quicker start to whatever they were going to do, and a way to ensure some warm up time. As he walked into the gym, he saw he wasn’t the only one who had this idea.

The new girl with the red hair also sat in her workout clothes, stretching. Garen placed down his bag and began to stretch as well. Every so often, he would look at the girl. She wore her hair high, in a ponytail, revealing a large scar on her face. And it was a particularly noticeable scar. It started from just above her left brow, traveled over her eyelid and down her cheek, and ended with a small curl towards the corner of her lips. She turned her gaze to him, and Garen looked away, a blush rising from being caught staring at her.

Luckily, Coach’s whistle blew.

“Alright kiddos, gather up!” his loud voice filling the large room. “We’re starting a month long project. You’re all going to be paired up. Then you and your partner will create a fitness plan centered around a goal. Each period, you will work with each other as a trainer _and_ the customer. You will do this until the end of the month where you will present your plans and goal, and showcase your results.” And with that, he began to list off names. Garen only half-listened, waiting to hear his name. “Garen, you’re with du Couteau.”

While he was trying to figure out who he was paired with, the new girl got up and walked towards him. He didn’t notice until she was right in front of him and he was once more staring at a part of her. He assumed that this was a confrontation, and stood. “Look, I’m sorry about before. It was rude to stare at your, uh…” he paused, not sure if he should bring it up. The girl only rolled her eyes.

“My English is not very good,” she said, heavily accented and much pauses, probably having to translate in her mind. “I understand, but do not speak well. I will try to plan with you.”

Just great. The new girl was a foreigner. He could look forward to a single bad mark in his best class. At that moment, he really wished he had been paired up with Illaoi or Sivir. Well, he’d just have to work with this. “All right. Let’s get to working on this…” he trailed, not wanting to call her by her last name, but not knowing her first name.

“Katarina,” she supplied. “My goals for this is well-rounded workout.”

Garen nodded. She seemed like she was in good shape, so a well-rounded workout routine would probably be the best for them. “Sounds good, then we should have a good amount of cardio. Arm, chest, and leg focus. A bench press--”

“Is stupid and useless. Another way to measure cock. I have more useful technique. I can teach you.” Garen stared at her. She began to walk towards the equipment, but turned back. “Are you going to come? We are on military time, now. We can do small portion of an exercise, then discuss. By the end, we’ll have worked all muscles,” she said, tapping a finger to her temple. Maybe this foreigner wasn’t all too bad of a partner.


	4. Author's Notice

Hey everyone. I know that I've been a bit quiet here, but this story isn't dead. Far from it, really. I'm just not as active on AO3. I tried it out because I know a lot of people prefer AO3, but it's not really my cup of tea. If you want to continue reading this story, it's on FanFiction.net under the same title. Again, I'm sorry.


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